


river flows in you

by derireo



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Flirting, Fluff, Gen, Late Night Conversations, One-Sided Attraction, Platonic Cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:33:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24176692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/derireo/pseuds/derireo
Summary: the cliche where homare doesn't have inspiration and seeks it through izumi. some cuddling ensues.
Relationships: Arisugawa Homare/Tachibana Izumi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	river flows in you

**Author's Note:**

> a tumblr request!

"Hey, I think you should go to bed." Izumi poked at Homare's shoulder. It was probably around midnight when she noticed that the man was still out in the courtyard doing whatever he does best, so absorbed in his work as he scribbled lines and lines of elegant handwriting into his notebook. The moon was out, shining upon the both of them as the stars twinkled, dancing in the night sky.

Homare paused in his writing when his concentration was broken by Izumi, and he sighed, reluctantly leaning back in the chair he was sitting in to rest his stiff body. His pen lay askew atop his notebook, and Izumi suddenly had the urge to straighten it.

Taking out the other chair that was beside Homare, Izumi seated herself. The poet didn't seem to be in the mood to talk, which was very uncharacteristic of him, and the director wasn't sure what it was that was bugging him. She tucked her legs up on the chair and rest her chin atop her knees while giving him a sidelong glance, her body facing the direction of where the sky shone above them.

"The night sky is quite beautiful, don't you think?" He pondered aloud with his fingers pinching his chin. The expression on his face did not change, but he looked like he was enjoying himself, which was a relief. Izumi turned her head and rested her cheek on her knees, instead staring at Homare who was still smiling up at the moon. He still wore his day clothes, and looked lovely under the beaming of the stars; Izumi did not want to look away.

She did not look away even when Homare's gaze broke from the sky to stare at her in curiosity; not knowing why she was staying so silent. She then smiled at him when his eyes landed on her face, and the gentle expression she wore flustered him. Homare turned his head away for a second to quickly recollect his thoughts, his hands coming down to awkwardly pat his thighs as he waited a few seconds to find the words he wanted to say.

"I.. thought enjoying the fresh air would help me with my writing." He answered the question that Izumi did not ask, but she appreciated it nonetheless.

Plus, Homare felt like he had to explain himself.

"I understand." She laughed faintly. On multiple occasions Izumi had gone out to the courtyard alone to enjoy the breeze the night had to offer, but was scolded thrice by Sakyo, Omi, and Tasuku when she fell ill one day after a short stroll around the dorm. She was only able to come out tonight because Omi was worried that Homare had not come in yet, and she offered to coax him back inside. Sakyo gave her his permission, and here she was now.

The moonlight subdued Homare's eccentric behaviour as much as it could, and it had her gazing at him with blatant affection.

The man fidgeted under her watchful gaze.

"I am having a bit of trouble articulating my thoughts into words right now," he sighed bashfully, "I might be experiencing this thing Tsuzuru calls ' _writer's block_ '."

Homare's smile was sheepish as he used the words that he had overheard the university student slur on about during breakfast one morning, but Izumi didn't seem to mind. She continued to look at him with interest, but her lashes fluttered; indicating that she was getting tired.

Slightly panicked that he was boring her, Homare said whatever else that came to his mind that would keep her attention on him. And keep her attention on him he did.

"Would you care to rest in my arms tonight?" He said, tender; tentative. "It may give me the inspiration to write a few more lines."

Her eyes were wide open now and he fidgeted under the stare. Normally, Homare would be able to say this kind of thing with ease, but with how Izumi looked at him tonight made him feel warm and embarrassed, and he couldn't help but stutter over his next set of words.

"Nevermind.. It was rude of me to ask and put you on the spot." He chuckled softly and rubbed the back of his neck with cold fingers, eyes closing in humiliation. He couldn't bear to see the woman in his sights without blushing an even darker shade and his breath was getting uneven with how nervous he was feeling. He blamed the moon for making him feel this way in front of his precious director, and his knee bounced anxiously while waiting for an answer.

The bouncing knee jerked violently when a light hand brushed over it, and Homare recoiled at the touch. His red eyes flashed to look at what had touched him and was shocked to see an equally as startled Izumi smiling in slight confusion.

"Are you alright, Homare?" She asked, innocent. Her smile was still kind as she approached him with cautious movements, until she was scooted to the end of her chair and her warm hands were resting on the leg that wouldn't stop bouncing. She was kind as she tapped her fingers against his knee to help him calm the nerves that were fraying, and relaxed her shoulders when he did the same. Slowly, she reached out, fingers lightly brushing away the creases that formed in his suit jacket with an amused tilt to her lips. "You seem.. restless. I think we ought to bring you inside now."

Just by an inch, Homare slumped in his chair, causing Izumi to muffle her sputter of laughter behind a small hand.

"Sorry, I meant no harm. I was joking." It was endearingly funny to see this uncharacteristic side of Homare, but Izumi understood how important writing was to him, and she didn't really mind indulging him in his small request for inspiration. His red eyes glanced at her unsure, and he cleared his throat with a faint harrumph. She was inching near him with every second that passed and he was getting even more nervous than before; he had no clue what she was going to do next.

He was about to say no and don't, but Izumi had always been so difficult to decline when she smiled at him that way, and as she slipped off her chair to stand in front of him, head tilted, the words died in his throat.

"Do you have a preference?" She asked, innocent. Despite her back now facing the sky, her eyes were still glimmering and the sight caused Homare's lungs to deflate as all the air escaped him in one large breath. His hands were gripping on the armrests of the iron chair he was sitting on while trying to regain his composure, steadily regaining a clear mind.

"Ah.. Yes. Indeed, I do. Here." With calculated movements, Homare scooted himself near the end of his seat and brushed off the imaginary dirty that was on his pants. After that, one of his hands was facing palm side up while his arm lifted to ghost over Izumi's waist, slowly leading her around the side of his chair to bring the young woman towards the space on his lap.

Easing herself onto Homare's legs was fun to say the least, as she pretended she had no idea how he wanted to position herself. Playfully, she decided to plop onto his lap, facing him. Her legs were draped on either side of his hips and were swinging back and forth in a childish manner while her arms hung over his shoulders, the position she put the both of them in causing a blush to rise to his cheeks.

"This okay?" She sang faintly. Her arms were wound around Homare's neck, resulting in both of them nearly being chest-to-chest. The older man held his hands up in shock due to the close proximity, barely ghosting over her waist as he tried to lean away from her so that their breaths wouldn't be mingling with each other. He was so tense beneath her touch that Izumi felt a bad for being so mean, and with a laugh, lifted a hand up to caress Homare's warm face.

"I shouldn't have teased you; it wasn't very nice of me." She apologised, but the smile still remained. Before Homare was able to react and tell her that it was alright, she had already moved around until she was sitting in the way he had originally planned to have her, sitting perpendicular to him with her cheek pressed to the space between his neck and shoulder and the tip of her nose just barely brushing against his jaw.

And for some reason, this position made Homare feel even more embarrassed. Was it because Izumi could stare at him this way instead of hooking her chin on his shoulder to stare into the distance? Or the way she curled up so adorably small against his chest? Or was it because, if given the opportunity and the permission, she'd be able to rest her head in the slope of his neck?

He felt like he was going to lose his mind if he kept thinking about the different things that could happen, and for a long moment, he forgot that there was a poem waiting to be finished.

But could anyone really blame him when Izumi was _right there_? Could you blame him for brushing his fingers through her soft hair? _Could you blame him_ for wanting to pull her closer to his chest and just whisper the sweetest of words in her ear, _just_ to listen to the laugh that always managed to make his heart beat a little faster?

Homare was very close to risking it all for this woman and it terrified him.

"You're warm.." She sighed suddenly, causing Homare to snap out of his dazed stupor as she fiddled around to wrap his suit coat around her body to keep the breeze from attacking her. Izumi was sure she'd have to go through another lecture if she found herself sick the next day, so Homare was going to have to be her knight in shining armour.

Lips pressed into a thin line, the poet stared at his lone notebook for a few seconds before deciding that maybe it was time to end the night. He let his eyes rest for a brief second as his reluctant arms came to rest around Izumi's frame, pulling her impossibly closer to him to keep her warm while finally tucked her head into the crook of his neck, a little yawn escaping her tired body.

"Shall we go back inside?" He whispered gently, making sure not to rouse her too much.

Izumi frowned at the mention of returning to the dorm when Homare had barely made any progress with his work, but didn't say anything. Her lashes lightly brushed against his skin when she closed her eyes and she let out a second sigh to let the man know that she didn't mind either way. 

"I'm sure the others are worrying about you right now," he chuckled, resting his cheek atop her head while a hand cradled the back of her neck, the other already beginning to gather up the materials that lay forgotten on the table, "I wouldn't want to get in trouble with Sakyo of all people."

"Omi and Tasuku are quite terrifying as well." Izumi tacked on; not very helpfully, and melted into Homare's chest when his arm went down to curl around her waist. "Though I'm sure they'll stay quiet when they see me sleeping in your arms."

Homare didn't answer, but he and Izumi both knew that the overprotective men always tended to not say anything whenever they caught her dozing away. It wouldn't be such a big deal if he brought her in while she was taking a snooze, right? He took care of her, and she managed to bring him back inside. Win win.

"Alright," he sighed, "ready for what's to come?"

A lazy thumbs up was thrown his way and he braced himself, setting his small notebook and pen in his suit pocket before standing up from his chair, Izumi comfortably resting against his chest. As he began to exit the courtyard with the young woman settled in his arms, he mustered up the courage to print a small kiss to the crown of her forehead just before he re-entered the dorm, carefully toeing off his shoes to replace them with slippers.

He bent down next to remove the large sandals that she slipped on before looking for Homare and also replaced them with slippers, the sound of him dropping the footwear quiet as he put them on the shoe rock. He was a bit exasperated that she didn't even wear her own slip on shoes; noticing that she was actually wearing Juza's footwear that made her clothed feet look even tinier.

"It's late." A sudden voice came from above, causing the poet's head to snap up to see Sakyo standing at the top of the staircase with his arms crossed over his chest. His face held no emotion, but Homare was still able to see the scrutinising look in his eyes as he made the move to stand up and carry Izumi up the stairs.

His smile was bashful when he tilted his head in the direction of Izumi in his arms, making sure that Sakyo knew that she was _'sleeping_ ' and that it was best if he didn't scold him for now. The blond's shoulders relaxed just the slightest bit when he saw the peaceful look on the woman's face and sighed in resignation, running a hand down his face with a wave of his hand to dismiss Homare.

Both Tasuku and Omi were in the kitchen when Homare turned his head, and the man with the scar on his chin pointed down at the warm plate of food that was waiting for him on the dinner table with a smile. His fellow troupe member also made the move to approach him, and with careful movements, took Izumi from him with a reprimanding look, cradling the small woman to his chest as she sighed at the sudden change of cuddle buddies.

He smiled in defeat, but still managed to whisper in Izumi's ear that he wished she would rest well before Tasuku quietly whisked her away to her bedroom.

"Having trouble writing again, Homare?" Omi greeted with an amused smile when the poet took a seat at the dinner table with a tired sigh, the man in question nodding his head as he began to dig in to the dinner that he had missed a few hours earlier. He missed the first few beats to the respond as the warmth of the food filled his stomach and he closed his eyes, nodding again instead of using his words.

"Hopefully you find the inspiration soon." The Autumn Troupe member wished sweetly and walked around the counter to slap Homare on the back, gently telling him that he didn't need to wash his dishes tonight and should just go to bed to get the sleep he was missing out on now. The poet choked slightly on his food at the force of the slap, but sent a thankful smile to Omi as he walked down the hallway to return to his bedroom; Sakyo seemingly already back in his own.

And as Homare leaned back in his chair with his spoon in his mouth, he remembered the feeling of Izumi laying in his arms, curled against his chest as if she were a little cat. He remembered how her hair felt like when he ran his fingers through it and how hard his heart was beating when she messed with him with that contagious smile of hers.

He sighed wistfully, but the affectionate shine to his eyes told a different story.

Homare _definitely_ found his inspiration.


End file.
